


My Kitchen is My Own Business--Until You Make it Yours

by Meddalarksen, victoriousscarf



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: 616 Clint in MCU verse, Deaf Clint Barton, Multi, Pietro Maximoff Lives, ignoring huge swathes of Age of Ultron
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-25
Updated: 2015-05-25
Packaged: 2018-04-01 06:45:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4009900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meddalarksen/pseuds/Meddalarksen, https://archiveofourown.org/users/victoriousscarf/pseuds/victoriousscarf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's not so much that Clint Barton adopts the twins when they move to New York (It's not even remotely that). It's that they adopt him--and by extension his dog.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Kitchen is My Own Business--Until You Make it Yours

**Author's Note:**

> Your notes, courtesy of VS:
> 
> *We wanted to explore 616 Clint in the MCU which would still mostly fit if you just pretend the whole farm sequence was actually Clint and/or Nat leading the Avengers to one of their many safe houses off of SHIELD's files. (They must have several to their own names is all I'm saying). There's gonna be some references to the Matt Faction run as a result. 
> 
> * Pietro lives for uh, reasons. The reality is that from a comic stand point we have pretty much the built in excuse of: Wanda did it (possibly without fully understanding how she did it) because she's Wanda and god know she does it in the comics (For example, in House of M literally moments after Magneto beats Pietro to death with rocks Wanda had brought him back to life.) There are also some hints in the movie about his fast metabolism possibly healing him faster. The point is: He's alive and it's sorta a McGuffin.
> 
> * The build up of the Avengers: Tony didn't leave, and Sam and Rhodey are sorta functioning members but Rhodey still has commitments to the military he's sorting out (a time share option perhaps?) and Sam is actually still deciding if he even wants to be on the team. (This is something that struck me as odd in the movie: he might have just been saying it to appease Steve, but Sam at the party sorta shot down the idea of him wanting to be an Avenger. Then he shows up at the end with no explanation and the ending with "oh look the new team" just struck me as very abrupt and not organic and so I sorta like the idea Nat and Steve are still seducing Sam onto the team). (Which honestly if there's gonna be a sequel to this story chances are it's gonna be that)
> 
> * Clint's deafness: I have very strong feelings about Clint being deaf, though the movies certainly don't. I know a lot of people really want a deaf Clint in the movies, but a while ago I read a post arguing that they really didn't want a deaf Clint as a deaf person because if Clint was deaf it meant he was hiding he was deaf and they were really sick of deaf people choosing or being forced for whatever reason to pretend to be functioning in a society that degraded or mocked them for having trouble hearing. (I need to see about finding this post again because it was a fantastic counter point and one I was really interested in) and it made me think about the idea Clint is doing his hardest to pretend he doesn't have any deafness, because in canon and for his character it's interesting. Thus he wears the tiniest hearing aids possible and hides it as much as possible because he doesn't want to be seen as any weaker (on a team of gods and machines) then he already is. Because he takes personal issue with his own deafness. (Which is why it really shows up at the end of the fic. This is not us as creators condoning this mindview necessarily, but it is one I think Clint personally would take in universe and while I'm not sure total justice is done to it in this fic, it is something I really am interested in exploring more). Also, as I'm only really starting to do research into deaf Clint and actually write deaf Clint, any suggestions, sources, or pointers to do this would be good. 
> 
> *Clint being a Star Wars snob has long been VS' headcanon. It has recently been revealed to me it is in fact canon.
> 
> *This fic might just be pure self indulgence on our parts.

Clint had barely gotten back upstairs from dumping the garbage, Lucky already pressed against his leg happily, when the knock came.

For a moment Clint stopped, considering the door warily. Finally he decided he could deal with any trouble and opened the door with his bow in one hand, arrows easily in reach.

"What the hell?"

Wanda and Pietro Maximoff stood on his doorstep; Wanda gave him a smile and a hello before dropping onto one knee and offering a hand to Lucky, "I did not know you had a dog."

"I," Clint blinked. "Yeah I do. What are you doing here?"

"What an unfriendly greeting," Pietro remarked.

"We were in the neighborhood and thought that we would say hello," Wanda said, getting to her feet and shaking out her skirt as she did so.

"You were... why were you in the neighborhood? How did you even get this address?"

"All your neighbors sort of know who you are, you know, it is a big security risk," Pietro said.

Wanda nodded her agreement with Pietro, "All it takes is a couple of polite questions, really."

Clint realized they were still standing in the hallway and made a quick gesture for them to come in, putting the bow down on his side table. "Okay. Point. So you're still in New York then?"

"Yeah?" Pietro said, belligerent. "Should we not be?"

"Pietro," Wanda said even as she stepped inside and looked around at the small apartment.  "You live here?"

"Yeah?" Clint said and now he sounded defensive.

She shrugged, "It is not a bad thing.  Not a lot of space for you and the dog.  Does the dog have a name?"

"Lucky," Clint said as Pietro made his appraisal of the apartment obvious.

"Oh what a good name," Wanda said, kneeling down in front of Lucky again and ruffling his ears.

"We'll it's true," Clint said, mostly under his breath.

She glanced up at him, but didn't comment, looking toward her brother, "I see coffee, anything else?"

"There's a stale half loaf of bread," Pietro said.

"Wait, what?" Clint asked. "You went through my cupboards _already_?"

"That's it?"  Wanda frowned at her brother.  "How stale?"

"It's not moldy," he shrugged.

"Is there a reason for this scrutiny?" Clint asked. "Did you come in here to scrutinize my eating habits for some bizarre research purpose?"

"You cannot live on coffee alone," Wanda said, patting Lucky's head once more as she rose to her feet, wandering over to one of Clint's bookshelves and not answering the question.

"No, I can't, but I just got home after being away for a while so I threw all the old food out. I'm getting more," he protested.

"When?" She asked, tilting her head to read the book titles better.

"Soon," he said. "There's a whole coming home from a mission vibe here."

"You need food," Wanda said, running her fingers over the spine of one of the books.

"Was gonna clean the fridge first," Clint said.

"And the counter?" Pietro asked eying it sideways.

“Nah, that is stained," Clint said and Pietro stared at him. "Not just from me either. Don't give me that look."

"We could help you," Wanda offered, finally turning away from the books.

"Hey, that's not," Clint started and suddenly there was a burr, some rattling and his water ran. "Necessary," he finished, even as Pietro stood in front of him again. "Okay super speed or not I don't believe you could do a good enough job in that space of time."

Wanda grinned at Clint, "You doubt him?"

"I," Clint started and shook his head, cautiously opening the fridge. "Aw, vibe," he whined under his breath, Lucky pressing against his leg briefly before wandering back over to Wanda.

She reached down to absently rub Lucky's ears, "See?"

"Do you not like being helped?" Pietro asked, head cocked to the side and considering Clint and his dog in turns.

"We can...not, if it really bothers you," Wanda said after a moment.

"At this point, it's fine," he said, closing the fridge door.

She nodded, taking him at his word, "So, food shopping?"

"And for some reason you're coming with me?"

Wanda nodded again, "Yes."

"And why would...? Scratch that why would I want you guys around for doing something like that?"

"Well, we," Wanda paused, glancing at her twin.  "You do not?"

"I'm confused," Clint said, Pietro not subtly drifting closer to where Wanda stood.

Wanda kept her eyes on Clint, "Is that a no?"

"Not strictly," he said. "I just wanna know what you're doing here and why me and all that."

"So you are rejecting our help because you're a paranoid old man?" Pietro returned.

"You think you would be used to rejection," Clint returned and even as he said it, his face blanked in horror at himself.

"You are right," Pietro returned blandly. "We are."

"What's a little more, right?" Wanda said, glancing toward Pietro and then back to Clint.

"That," Clint started, rubbing a hand through his hair. "Shit. Shit. Not what I meant. Okay, fine we can go shopping."

Wanda's lips curled upward into a slight smile, "Wonderful."

Clint shook his head because even Pietro had brightened. "But not like, candy or whatever. We're getting real food. And no cans, don't even start that fight with me, if it's in a can the answer is no."

"Good food comes in cans," Pietro protested.

"Still no."

Wanda considered those stipulations and then nodded, "Agreed."

"Okay then," Clint said, fetching Lucky's leash

A-A-A

Clint staggered into the tower, zoning in on where Natasha and Steve were apparently talking about dates on the couch. "Tasha," he greeted, half throwing himself over the back of the couch.

Natasha reached up to scratch at his hair, "Hello, Clint.  I was just telling Steve that the receptionist for the Tower has a very nice personality, and a smile to kill for."

Steve rolled his eyes, tapping away at his phone and trying to hide the twitch of a smile at the corners of his mouth, "Yes, and before that it was one of the security team."

"Nat has good taste," Clint said, looking up from where his stomach was pressed against the top of the couch. "With other people's dates that is."

"Oh hush you," Natasha said, running her fingers through his hair and along the back of his skull.  "You could always go out with Sam."

That earned a shake of Steve's head, "You already suggested Sam. I like him as a _friend_.  I'm allowed to have those."

"Sam?" Tony asked from where he had not been listening near the kitchen bar.

Steve looked toward Tony and Natasha ducked her head, her lips curling into a smug smile, "Someone I met running the Mall in DC.  He works for the VA."

"And is handsome, funny, kind, shall I go on?" Natasha said, before speaking to Clint where he was still draped, "You're as bad as a cat sometimes."

"Whatever," Clint said. "Isn't that the guy with the wings or something?"

"Yeah, that's him," Steve nodded, closing whatever he was doing on his phone.

"Oh well if he can fly, because no one else can do that," Tony said, seeming to go back to fiddling on his table.

Natasha glanced at Clint, the smile still playing around her lips the equivalent of a full on grin on anyone else, "I can't think of too many people.  Is that a thing for you, Steve?  Flying?"

Steve offered her a huff of laughter, "I don't know. I don't stay in the air all that long."

"That's true."  She poked Clint in the side, "I think he throws himself off higher things than you even."

"He has wings yeah? That's not a fair comparison," Clint said, finally sliding down and twisting around to squeeze onto the couch between Natasha and Steve.

"I meant Steve," Natasha said as Steve shifted to give Clint a bit more room.  "Sam too, but like you said he has wings."

"He has someone who can fly to catch him, also not a fair comparison," Clint said.

Steve grinned, "So, you're saying that you throwing yourself off of high places is worse?  Is that a justification or a competition?"

"Firmly claiming my own stupidity," Clint said.

"Are we done with this topic yet?" Tony asked.

"Sure," Clint said. "So, Nat. I actually wanted to ask you something."

Natasha nodded, turning in place and sliding her toes under Clint's thigh, her knees drawn up to her chest, "Okay."

"How the hell did the twins find my apartment?"

"It's Steve's fault," she answered without missing a beat.

Steve startled slightly and looked up from an article he was reading on his phone, "What?  How?  No."

"Oh good," Clint said. " _Someone_ to blame."

"It wasn't me," Steve protested.  "I said they were talking about looking for a place of their own here.  Nat said she had an idea.  That is the last I heard of it."

Clint slowly looked back over at Natasha. "Place of their own?"

"I simply told them that you knew that area better than others and they might want to check with you," she answered, serenely.

"And it was Steve's fault for mentioning to you they were looking?" Clint asked.

Natasha nodded once, "Of course."

"Yup," Clint agreed after a beat. "It's Steve's fault."

Steve stared at them both, "How is this my fault?  This isn't my fault."  He looked over the back of the couch, "Tony, back me up.  This isn't my fault."

"I am not arguing with those two agreeing about anything," Tony said after a beat. "At least not right now. So. The twins showed up at your place?"

"Yeah," Clint said. "Does anyone know _why_ they're looking for a place in New York?"

"Well, um, that is..." Steve trailed off, glancing at Tony again.

"You don't lie well, Steve.  And your stalling is even worse," Natasha said, watching Steve try to avoid answering the question.

"Someone invited them to be Avengers, didn't they?" Clint said, noticing Natasha stalling.

"Talk to our fearless leaders there, I think it was a group effort," Natasha said, waving a hand toward both Steve and Tony.

"Fearless what now?" Tony said.

Natasha looked toward Tony, "You heard me."

Clint groaned, head in his hands. Steve offered Clint a grin, "It's not that bad is it?"

"It depends on your definition of bad."

"I mean, sure, eventually they'll find a place and settle down or something but that shouldn't mean invading your apartment all the time, does it?" Tony asked, showing he had, in fact, been listening the whole time.

"I'm sure they've got somewhere else to stay while they're looking," Steve offered.

"Yeah, they do," Clint said. " _My_ apartment."

"Well, it's not like they take up that much room," Natasha said.

Clint stared at her. "I have a studio, Nat. I sleep in a loft. Wanda keeps reading my books and walking my dog. She's sleeping on my couch. I _think_ Pietro is sleeping in that pile of blankets in the corner but I can't confirm because every morning I wake up and he's already dicking around with the TV."

Natasha's lips twitched at that, "You could kick them out."

"No attempts on that front have worked," he said, over the sound of Tony cackling at the bar.

Natasha arched an eyebrow, "You've actually attempted to drive them out and they're still there?  I'm impressed."

"Drive out might be a strong term," Clint admitted. "It's never actually gotten far enough for me to put up a sustained try."

"I'm sure they'll find a place before that becomes necessary," Steve said.

"No, but why haven't you kicked them out?" Tony asked.

Clint chewed his lip for a second before shrugging. "Because when I first tried it I made the mistake of telling them they should be used to rejection."

"Oh, Clint, you didn't," Natasha said, Steve just staring at Clint in surprise.

"Yeah, well, since then they've been sleeping on my floor, taking my dog for walks, and taking me grocery shopping. Which is how this all started. They were distressed at how empty my cupboards were."

"Meaning they've forgiven you for telling them they were used to rejection?" Natasha asked, arching an eyebrow.

Clint's shoulders deflated. "I don't think they were that mad to begin with, which just made it worse."

Natasha combed her fingers over his hair again, "So point them toward some empty apartments.  They'll move out, you'll have your space back and you don't have to feel guilty."

"Right," Clint said.

"Why'd they focus on you?" Tony asked.

"I have no idea," Clint said.

"You mean besides the fact that you seem to give as good as you get with quips?" Steve asked.  "And how you were the one to actually work with them more?"

"Quips are not a reason to invade someone's apartment," Clint returned.

"It's sortta funny," Tony said after a beat. "Didn't you shoot one of them and hit the other in the head with electricity?"

Natasha nodded, "He did actually.  And I can't figure out if that makes this more confusing or less."

"More," Tony said.

"You know what," Clint said after a beat. "Sortta feeling done now."

"We could turn on a movie.  Or you could try to beat me at Mario Kart again," Natasha offered, leaning her head against the back of the couch.

"I beat you," Clint protested. "Once. But let's not forget it happened."

"I said again," Natasha said.

"This, I would pay to see," Tony said, slinking over. "Which lucky me, I don't need to."

"We could charge him admission," Natasha suggested, looking at Clint.

"Except he's the one with the tech," Steve said, watching Tony.

"Man, whatever," Clint said. "I think I'm everyone's cheap entertainment option."

"I'm not sure I even want to touch that sentence," Tony said after a beat. Steve nodded his agreement with Tony as Natasha unfolded herself to grab a controller and toss the other one at Clint.

A-A-A

Wanda was sitting on the couch in Clint's apartment, Lucky's head on her lap as she pet his ears and spoke to her brother, "It is a decent building and a good landlord.  Mrs. Valdez assured me that the apartments are in good shape.  I say we ask him."

"And if he says no?" Pietro asked from where he was sprawled on the floor, fiddling with a controller but not really playing anything.

"Then we see about the other nearby complexes.  I don't think I like that idea, based on what Mrs. Valdez said about the previous landlords here, really."

"It would make you harder to walk Lucky," Pietro said, instead of anything else.

Wanda nodded, "Much.  Harder to make sure Clint's having something besides coffee too."

"He does keep claiming to be a grown man," Pietro said.

"He does.  He still cannot live on coffee."

"He orders pizza in," Pietro said and Clint pushed the door open, Chinese takeout bag in hand.

"You're not bitching about my eating habits again, are you?"

"Oh, food," Wanda said, perking up and ignoring the question.

"There was food here," Clint protested, kicking the door closed.

Wanda nodded, watching as Lucky hurtled over to sniff at the bag in Clint's hand, "But not that food."

"Hey, pizza dog," Clint said, scratching Lucky's ears. "You want Chinese too?" Before Clint had a chance to step away from the door, Pietro had the bag and the food laid out on the counter. "I was still holding that," Clint protested, waving his suddenly free hand around.

Wanda rose and moved over to the counter, considering what Clint had gotten and grabbing a plate from the cupboard, "And that's not really ever likely to stop him."

"So I'm noticing," Clint muttered, shoving a whole half of the food toward Pietro and not bothering with a plate for himself. "So. How long exactly are you two going to eat me out of house and home?"

"You own the building," Pietro said. "Money is not such an issue for you."

"We actually have our eyes on an apartment, but we need to talk with the landlord," Wanda admitted, picking up a set of chopsticks which she'd been getting more dexterous with.  "Are you really so anxious to be rid of us?"

"That's not quite—" Clint started. "Which landlord? Where is it?"

She took a bite of chow mein, chewing and swallowing before she answered, "There is apparently a couple of open apartments two floors down."

Clint closed his eyes, before wrinkling his nose. "Oh my god."

"And really it's ideal.  We already know some of the neighbors, and we know the landlord is a good man," Wanda said, sorting through her food and finding a piece of chicken.

"You want to move into my building?" Clint asked.

"You did not see that coming?" Pietro asked and Clint threw a piece of chicken at his head, which he ducked. "Honestly though. We have been sleeping here for a week. We like it."

"It is a good place.  There are good people here," Wanda nodded in agreement with her twin.  "We have practically moved into the building already, we would just be moving into a different apartment than yours."

"Which we thought you would like."

"I," Clint started and looked between them, and he was fairly certain Pietro was trying to make his eyes bigger. "Look, it's a crappy building, you can do a lot better."

Wanda stared at him for a long moment, when she spoke she sounded vaguely lost, "But, we do not want better."

"Look, the satellite goes out all the time—especially when there are arrows in it—the fire escape is the balcony, we get periodically attacked by a gang in tracksuits because they're still pissed I bought the building from them and I may or may not have helped the girl that, uh, anyway. Everything needs repainted and I think the only good thing about this place is the pro-pet policy. Which I instituted."

"The satellite is not important to us, the fire escape, balcony, thing is adequate, do you remember how you met us and you think a gang in tracksuits will put us off? And with permission we'll paint the apartment ourselves," Wanda shook her head.  "We do not want better.  We want to make a home.  That is all."

"Just because you came from a place..." Clint started, looking down at the takeout box in his hand, swirling the food around with his chopsticks. "Shouldn't mean you don't want better."

"You chose here," Pietro protested. "Enough to buy the whole building! Do you not deserve better too?"

"This is not about my issues," Clint shot back. "Why settle for a place like this if there's others out there?"

"Because we know it.  We like it.  And we like the people in it," Wanda said, as though it were really that simple.

"But that's not," Clint started, shaking his head.

"Not what?"

"That's not everything," Clint said. "Place can be really important."

"We are going to pay for a better place with?" Pietro returned. "This is New York."

Wanda nodded toward her brother, "As Pietro said."

"You honestly want to stay here?" Clint asked, like he couldn't quite believe it.

Wanda nodded, "That is what we have been saying."

"I am not going to let you go on rent," Clint said after a beat. "Like, no special discount or extensions or anything like that."

"We would not expect you to.  We can pay our own way," Wanda said, sounding mildly affronted.

"There are ground rules about super villains too," Clint said.

"We will try and not to bring any home," Pietro deadpanned back.

"Any other things that need covered?" Wanda asked, finishing her food and reaching down to scratch Lucky's ears again.

"Not at the moment," he said, rubbing his forehead.

Wanda nodded, looking at her brother and her lips curved upward slightly, "It will be good."

"Yeah, we will be, what, the best of friends?" Pietro said, grinning and Clint groaned.

"Yes.  And I will have to thank Mrs. Valdez for mentioning the apartments downstairs," Wanda decided.

"Will that be before or after I evict her," Clint muttered at his chopstick.

"You would not," Pietro said.

Wanda offered Clint a flat look, "You like her just fine."

"She apparently has a big mouth," Clint said and Lucky whined on the floor in front of him. Deflating, he waved his chopsticks at Lucky. "Fine, fine. For you, you damn dog."

"You spoil him," Wanda said, not sounding like it was a reprimand or anything more than an observation.

"That's what you do for a dog that saved your life," Clint said.

"What?" Pietro asked.

"He what?"  Wanda looked at Clint in surprise before looking back at Lucky.

"Well," Clint shrugged. "He jumped on a guy with a gun and got thrown into traffic. So we sortta owe each other," and he scratched Lucky's ears, hearing him wuff quietly.

"You have a very loyal dog," she said, looking like she wasn't entirely sure how to reply to the revelation Clint had just offered.

"Why was a gun pointed at your head?" Pietro asked.

"I told you, periodic attacks from the track suit mafia," Clint said and looked down at Lucky. "Bro," he added and Lucky wuffed again.

"Is that how he lost his eye?"  Wanda asked quietly.

"Yeah," Clint nodded, fingers firmly in Lucky's ruff and not letting go. "Got him to the vet. He almost didn't pull through."

"Well, he is happy and healthy now.  That's a good thing,” Wanda said, as if convincing herself.

"Yup," Clint said, happily. "He's got it together and has a mostly unlimited supply of pizza."

Wanda smiled, "What more could a dog ask for?"

"Not much," Clint said. "So. When are you thinking of moving in?"

Pietro snapped out of staring at Lucky. "Whenever. It is not like we have anything to move."

"Anything..." Clint started and sighed. "Aw, hell. We're going to have to go shopping, aren't we?"

"We don't need very much," Wanda said.  "It should not take long."

"You need furniture," Clint said. "Uh, beds, bookcases, couch or something, a kitchen. That could take a while. We'll get Tony's card."

Wanda paused at that, but spoke after a moment, "We do not wish to owe him anything."

Pietro's face had closed off too and Clint looked between them. "Okay," he said after a beat. "Second hand okay with you guys?"

"Absolutely," Wanda said, hesitating again.  "We will pay you back."

"No rush," Clint shrugged. "I got money, just not Tony level money."

A-A-A

Wanda and Pietro stood across the training room, Thor towering over both of them. He had returned from Asgard only the day before, tired and still looking for answers to a question Clint did not even know, but he wanted to train with the twins, claiming the wish to better understand them. Tony was on the other side of the large room, tinkering with the chest piece of his suit and pretending not to be paying avid attention to the twins who were still avoiding him. He looked forlorn as no one had heard from Bruce still.

In the center, Clint was paying attention to the twins, Steve to Tony, and Natasha to the both of them.

Natasha ducked a distracted swing from Steve and tripped him as she came up, aiming for Clint's chest, "You with me here, fellas?"

"I'm not," Clint admitted, rubbing his chest and taking a step back. "No idea where Rogers is."

Steve picked himself up off the ground, "Getting my ass handed to me is where I am."

Natasha looked at Steve and followed his attention to Tony before doing the same with Clint and the twins, "Okay, Clint, you first.  Where are you?"

"Why am I first?" Clint complained, unfolding his compact bow.

"Because you said in as many words that you weren't here." Natasha glanced at him as she checked over the gun she picked up, "So where are you?"

Clint gestured over with his bow to where Thor caught Pietro's arm despite the other running as fast as he could.

"Yes, I saw that," Natasha agreed, looking more than slightly impressed at Thor's reflexes.  "Something new with them or just that they're still sleeping on your couch and floor?"

"They're moving into my building," Clint muttered as if being quieter about it would make it less true.

Natasha considered him for a long moment before turning to watch the two siblings and Thor, "Is that a bad thing?"

"I don't know yet," he said. "But they're moving in with me, more or less and what the hell is that about?"

"They apparently like you.  You could have said 'no', you know.  You do own the building," she pointed out.

"Yes I do," Clint muttered.

"You couldn't say 'no', could you?"

"No," he groaned. "They've got me Nat. I'm hosed. I tried to set up ground rules but Lucky adores them and they're in good with the neighbors and I can't say no."

"So they've figured out you're a soft touch," Natasha mused, watching the twins for another moment before coming to a decision.  She turned to Clint, "I'll make a deal with you."

"And what's that?" he asked warily.

"Let me know your ground rules.  They cross them too far and I'll talk to them.  That doesn't work and we'll set Steve's disappointed face on them," she answered easily.

"Steve's disappointed face?" Clint laughed. "Okay, deal."

Natasha smiled, turning her head slightly, "You hear that, Rogers?"

Steve started from where he'd been watching Tony, "What?  What was I supposed to hear?"

"Tasha is promising me use of your disappointed face."

"Why?" Steve regarded the two former SHIELD agents warily.

"Because it's so very disappointed," Natasha said.  "Weren't you listening to anything?"

"I was, um, distracted," Steve managed.

"Can we pester him about that now?" Clint asked.

Natasha nodded, "I think so, yes."

"No, wait, let's talk about the fact that I resent you weaponizing my disappointed face," Steve said half-heartedly.

That earned a snort from Natasha, "Like you haven't already."

"You have it down to a fine art, Rogers," Clint said. "It's hugely effective."

"I have not," Steve replied, attempting indignation.

"Don't lie to a liar, Rogers," Natasha drawled.  "You know exactly which face we're talking about and you use it whenever you think you need to."

"There's something about growing up around phonies and lairs," Clint said with a shrug and half laugh. "That makes them easy to spot."

"And you're not all that good at it," Natasha offered.  "So, your turn.  Where's your focus at?"

"Nowhere, really," Steve answered, not managing to dodge the question at all.

"Rogers," Clint shook his head. "Dangerous ground, man."

Natasha smiled, "Anyone else notice Tony looks really good in tank tops?"

Steve rolled his eyes, trying to hide a smile, "I thought we agreed team members were off-limits, Tasha."

"Only if I'm actively trying to set you up with them."

"You have an arrangement about that?" Clint asked. "I never got that."

"He gave up on me not offering him options and set that limit," Natasha said.  "Something about awkwardness and team cohesion."

"Oh, team cohesion,” Clint nodded wisely. “You know, kissing Tony would probably bring back some cohesion after the last clusterfuck."

Natasha nearly choked on a laugh and Steve offered them an exasperated grin, "Oh fuck off you two."

"I made no agreement," Clint said in a sing-song while Wanda and Thor went through what looked like some martial art drills across the room, Pietro idly trying to lift the hammer and frowning at it.

"And he's really a very attractive man, Steve could do worse," Natasha said.

"A lot worse," Clint said, face falling for a moment before shaking his head. "Though the megalomaniac aspect is a bit of a problem."

"He's not that bad," Steve protested.

Natasha arched an eyebrow, "Steve, I was sent undercover into SI to assess him, for multiple reasons."

"Ultron ringing any bells?" Clint asked.

"Okay, I'll give you your point," Steve said, his gaze drifting toward Tony again.  Shaking his head, he turned his attention back to Clint, "So, the Maximoffs are living in your building?"

"Smooth, Rogers," Clint shook his head.

"Weren't you bemoaning the fact that they were living in your apartment?" Steve asked, ignoring Clint's jibe.

"And you're ducking the topic," Clint said. "But yes. I was bemoaning that."

"Of course I'm ducking the topic.  So is this why you need my disappointed face?" Steve asked, starting to run through a set of stretches.

"They have, uh, boundary trouble," Clint said.

"You mean like showing up and crashing on your couch for weeks?"

"And they got my dog to really like them."

"How much do you need my disappointed face?" Steve asked.

"As a last resort," Natasha said.

"Really? Aw, damn," Clint sighed.

Steve paused, "Wait, you have a dog?"

Clint side eyed him, wariness entering his posture. "Yeah."

Steve smiled at that, shaking his head, "Good for you. Never would have guessed, but good for you."

"I like animals," Clint said, not quite meeting Steve's eyes. "Anyway that was sortta the point of having an apartment—building—that was separate. To sortta have at least the illusion of another life."

"It's a good idea," Steve agreed, his attention drifting back toward Tony again. 

Natasha rolled her eyes, "So when is the moving actually happening?"

"In a few days, I think," Clint said. "We're still checking out used furniture."

"I know a couple of good places, though actually I think I've taken you to them before," she said.

"I think I know all the places you know," Clint said. "Besides, I'm not really sure what we're doing making a big deal of the move date—it's not like they have much of anything and aren't sleeping on borrowed blankets."

"You have to get the furniture in and to their apartment," Natasha pointed out.  "Especially since it sounds like the only things they're actually moving."

"Yeah, yeah," Clint said as Thor came over.

"I have been speaking with the twins," he said. "They tell me they have found a home with you! This is most pleasing news, and I would like to help upon the day they make their new lodgings their own."

Natasha's eyes lit up slightly at that, "Okay, I'm officially coming along."

Clint watched as Thor happily wandered back across the room. "You just want to watch him flex his muscles."

"You say that like I would deny it," Natasha said.  "He's a very handsome man."

Clint paused. "Alright, I won't deny that. I have to admit, he's very attractive and god knows I'm going to be watching those flexing muscles myself."

"See?" Natasha asked, her gaze darting toward where Wanda had lost her balance out of a stretch at Clint's words.

"You two are shameless," Steve murmured.

Natasha huffed a quiet laugh, "Coming from you, Rogers, that's rich."

"What?" Pietro asked, suddenly appearing at Clint's elbow. "What did you just say?"

"Jesus fucking Christ," Clint yelped.

Wanda came across the room at a more normal pace, eyeing Clint, though her gaze kept darting to Pietro, a small crease between her brows as though she was trying to work out a puzzle, "You said Thor was attractive."

"Well, yeah," Clint said. "Because he is."

"But he is a guy," Pietro said, looking like it took effort to stand still.

Clint gave him a narrow-eyed look. "You aren't going to get weird about that, are you?"

"We just—" Wanda frowned slightly, but fell silent and shook her head. "No."

"And you?" Clint said, still meeting Pietro's eyes.

"I," Pietro started. "I will not get weird."

Natasha studied the twins in silence for another moment, one of her eyebrows rising very slightly as she reached a suspicion, before she spoke to Clint again, "So, a couple days and we'll help with move-in?"

"I'll let you know," Clint said, still shifting uncomfortably between the twins.

"I am going to head back," Wanda said after a moment, glancing at her brother. "Pietro?"

"Yeah," Pietro agreed. "Clint?"

Clint looked over at Natasha for a moment before nodding. "Yeah, sure."

Natasha met Clint’s eyes, holding her right hand with the fingers spread and her thumb tucked against her palm.  She tapped the first finger of her right hand against her chin twice and then nodded, "Keep me posted."

"Always do," he said, trying not to grin at Natasha. "I'll talk to you soon. Kiddos, to home we go."

"We are not children," Wanda said, but headed toward the door.

"We might be, for this old man," Pietro said, reaching the door first and pulling it open.

His sister laughed lightly at that, stepping through, "Perhaps you are right."

"I am not that old!" Clint protested as he followed them to the door.

A-A-A

Clint collapsed onto the couch, Lucky almost instantly jumping up beside him. "You are not supposed to be up here," Clint said without any heat. "They have taught you bad habits."

Lucky wuffed because Clint had always more or less allowed him up to sit beside him. "Well," Clint said, ruffling his ears. "They're moved downstairs and thank god, there's a Star Wars marathon. I don't even care if it's the remastered with the bad music, tonight we're enjoying our newly empty apartment and Star Wars." Lucky wuffed again and Clint sighed, because it felt already too quiet. "The point of this was to have someplace to myself," he muttered, flipping the TV on.

As R2-D2 was being taken by the Jawas on Tatooine, there was a knock on the door to Clint's apartment. "The world better not be ending," Clint yelled. "Star Wars is on!"

The door opened and Wanda stuck her head into the apartment, "What?"

"Star Wars is on," Clint said, gesturing to the TV. "So I am not moving my ass off this couch. So, the world better not be ending."

Wanda glanced over her shoulder at her brother before pushing the door open and stepping inside, "The world is not ending."

"I thought you guys just moved into your own place," Clint said, tilting his head back and not even wincing when Pietro appeared suddenly on the couch beside him.

"What is this Star Wars?" Pietro asked, head cocked to the side.

"Are you joking?" Clint asked. "Come on, everyone's seen Star Wars—or at least knows about it. I know even Eastern Europe got it at some point!" Pietro gave him a sideways look and Clint clicked his jaw shut. "Anyway," he cleared his throat. "Movies. About good and evil and the force and cool spaceships."

"The force?" Wanda asked as she closed the door and drifted over to sit down on Clint's other side, shifting Lucky out of the way and then letting the dog drape himself happily over her again.

Clint paused. "Basically Star War's version of your powers without the red glowy bits," he said after a beat. "Sortta. Ah, just watch, they'll explain it."

She considered protesting that she doubted it was really all that much like what she could do, but decided that wasn't what mattered, scratching Lucky's ears and getting comfortable on the couch.

"How is it like my sister?" Pietro asked instead.

"Well, it is and it—I said just watch it, didn't I?" Clint said, as if he already forgot they were supposed to have their own apartment now and he had been looking forward to a night by himself. "Aw, I'll go order pizza," he decided after a moment's thought for his pantry.

"No mushrooms?" Wanda requested as Clint went to call in the order.

"Yeah, yeah, I remember," he said. "And Pietro gets his own large."

"Only because that way you actually get to have some," Pietro called back, tilting his head at the droids on the screen.

"I like the little white and blue one," Wanda said, nodding toward the screen.  She had stopped pointing at things in recent weeks as she still couldn't always catch a hex bolt before it left her fingertips.

"He gets even more awesome later," Clint said. "I'm serious, almost everyone likes Artoo."

A small 'now playing' box popped up in the right hand corner of the screen and Wanda frowned slightly at it, "Episode four?  There are others before this?"

Clint paused, the phone held up. "We will talk about that later," he decided. "This movie came out first."

"It looks old," Pietro said. "That must be why you like it."

"It's older than me," Clint muttered. "I'm not _that_ old."

"Old or not, I like it so far," Wanda said, eying her brother sideways, a small smile tugging at her lips.

"Old I suppose is not always bad," Pietro said, eyes sliding over to his sister.

She dipped her chin in an almost imperceptible nod, "Sometimes it is even very good."

"Somehow I feel like you kids aren't talking about what I'm talking about," Clint said, before he turned his attention to the phone, jamming it between his ear and shoulder and rattling off an order that was becoming quite familiar.

Wanda just smiled, scratching Lucky behind the ears and turning her attention partially back to the screen.

Clint looked between the two of them on his couch with a small frown before he settled back down in the center. "I thought you guys wanted your own space?"

"And we have it," Wanda said.  "But does that mean we should spend all our time in it?  It is not home yet."

Clint opened his mouth and shut it instead of asking if his place was home, or why that was the case. "Well," he cleared his throat. "I guess everyone should see Star Wars."

"You are hyping it up," Pietro said. "Can it live up to that?"

"This 'Luke' character seems very young," Wanda said, glancing at Clint from the corner of her eye.

"Yeah," Clint agreed. "That's the point. Hero's journey, blah blah."

"The hero's journey, huh?" Pietro asked. "And at that age, were you like that? Was your journey like this?"

Clint laughed loud enough that Lucky startled, lifting his head from Wanda's lap. "Oh god no. He's what, eighteen, nineteen? I was never that innocent at that age—I had conned and lied and stolen my way halfway across the United States at that age."

Wanda soothed Lucky again as she looked to Clint, "We are not a group for hero's journeys are we?"

"It's funny," Clint said. "Most of us, probably all of us, don't have a hero's journey like this at all. _Maybe_ Steve, in that he was the scrappy kid who wanted to do good and got picked up by the higher purpose to do their work for them. Local kid made good, all that. But the rest of us? We still love this movie anyway, though, but no it's sortta a joke to say the classic hero's journey."

Pietro was frowning at him. "What do you mean—you stole and lied? You were... criminal?"

"Aw, was I ever," Clint sighed. "I got better."

"This team is made of rather a lot of....criminals, or former ones, isn't it?" Wanda asked after a moment.

"And some princes and some genius billionaires," Clint shrugged. "And a damn fair amount of reformed cons and assassins."

Wanda hummed slightly at that and then nodded, scratching the back of her left hand absently. "And were you a con or an assassin?" Pietro asked, looking at him sideways.

Clint's shoulders tensed and he shrugged. "Just watch the movie."

"How long ago was it?" Wanda asked after another moment.

"The what, crime thing? I left about when I was eighteen, nineteen. This dude, he decided he believed in me."

Wanda paused at that and looked past Clint toward Pietro, "Who?"

"Doesn't matter, he's not here anymore," Clint said. "But he wore a suit, loved Captain America and decided that some punk kid had a future and second chances."

"And—" She stopped and then nodded, "He made a good choice."

"You were going to ask something else," Clint said looking over.

"It is not important," Wanda said, shaking her head.  "I was going to ask more of him, but you do not wish to talk about him, do you?"

"Not really," Clint said after a long moment of consideration. "He's the reason why I'm an Avenger though, and by extension Nat."

"Why, did he save her too?" Pietro asked, looking sour from where he was studiously watching the movie.

"Nah, that was me," Clint laughed. "I made a different call and no one could argue considering how _I_ got there. We were all on probation for a long ass time."

Wanda turned a larger portion of her attention from the movie so she could look at Clint, "Do you do that often?  Make another call?"

He paused again, mostly looking at Lucky with his scars and missing ear. "I'm on probation a lot," he said.

"Do you ever regret it?" She asked quietly, still scratching Lucky's ear.

"I get all my best friends that way," Clint laughed. "Are you kidding? Do I regret Nat?"

"Do you regret us?" Pietro asked, far blunter.

"Ah. Bro. If I regretted you you would not be on my couch with my dog waiting for pizza and watching the saga of Luke Skywalker. I haven't yet and I don't plan to, okay?"

Some of the tension eased from Wanda's shoulders at that and she nodded, "I am glad."

"Bro?" Pietro wrinkled his nose at him and Clint laughed.

Wanda shifted Lucky off her lap so she could go get some water, glancing over her shoulder toward the screen, "What makes this movie so special to you?"

"It's not—it's Star Wars. It's the movie we watched as kids and thought maybe there was something better out there for us, later. And it's just a good movie okay it's beloved by like half the world. Go with it here."

She smiled slightly, returning to sit on the arm of the couch next to Pietro this time, curling a leg in front of her and draping her arm along the back of the couch, practically leaning against his shoulder, "Alright, I suppose I can 'go with it'."

Clint looked at them sideways before sighing and shuffling down the couch, Lucky happily draping himself over Clint's lap. Wanda slid down to curl between Pietro and the arm of the couch, forcing her brother to shift over as well.

"You are spoiled," Clint said, looking at Lucky but clearly addressing the room as a whole.

Wanda glanced at Clint, "That dog is long since spoiled."

"I know, that's what you get for picking them up with pizza," and Lucky whiffed happily from where he was draped on Clint's legs.

"He definitely knows that word," Wanda said, smiling faintly.

A-A-A

Clint was having trouble seeing straight after they had mopped up the spat of weapon-toting marshmallow monster things from the streets of New York.

Tony was still muttering under his breath about maybe aliens and machines weren't so bad when the other option was a Monty Python skit coming to life but Clint glared daggers at Pietro's back all the way to the tower.

Wanda was trying not to look like she was hovering around her brother as much as she actually was, checking him for injuries and making sure he was steady on his feet even though she knew he was.  Natasha watched the two siblings quietly from her place at Clint's side as Steve's attention shifted bemusedly toward Tony's muttering.

"They were marshmallows!" Tony yelled to the room at large. "With _guns_. Giant marshmallows—is this Monty Python or the Ghostbusters? Who came up with this shit?"

Before anyone could answer him, Clint rounded on Pietro. "What the fuck were you thinking?" he thundered, louder than Tony's pouting yells had been.

Wanda startled, almost bringing her hands up before realizing who it was and clenching them down at her sides, willing the red glow of destruction to stay beneath her skin, "He is fine, Clint."

"He's fine? He's fine?" Clint repeated. "Sure he's fine, look at him," and Pietro narrowed his eyes as Clint flung a hand toward him. "Despite all but shoving himself _into the line of fire_ from a giant goddamn marshmallow!"

"Are you one to talk?" Pietro muttered.

"That is not the _point_ right now, punk."

Resting one hand on her brother's arm, Wanda took a half-step toward Clint, not quite placing herself between them but coming close, "He is _fine_."

"He almost died!" Clint thundered. " _Again!_ "

"But he did not," Wanda said quietly, even as she flinched at Clint's words.

"You idiot son of a bitch!" Clint snapped again, Tony watching him with a look of surprise. "You can't keep throwing yourself in front of things and assuming your speed or-or-or something else is going to work out for you! You don't get an automatic magic reset button for dying!"

"Well," Pietro said, sliding his gaze over to Wanda.

"That was dumb stupid luck!" Clint yelled again.

Wanda's gaze darted away from Clint at that, avoiding looking at Pietro as well as she murmured, "I will figure out what I did."

"You'll figure out what you did?" Clint repeated, still too far on the edge of panic to keep his voice down. "Fantastic! That still means you have to be there, you have to have the energy, you have to be focused or functional enough or not knocked out or dead yourself! You randomly being able to bring the dead back to life is not a good battle strategy!"

"He is fine," Wanda repeated, her voice nearly breaking on the last word.  "Pietro is alive, and fine.  He was not even scratched today."

"It was still reckless," Steve said, though his voice was slightly strangled as he put together what Clint said with what he could remember of the final battle against Ultron.

"I am fine," Pietro protested again and Clint took a solid step toward him, still looking furious. Pietro faltered, face looking like he was considering running away from that.

"You," Clint pointed. "Need a better strategy or I swear to god, I will not let you out into the field again."

"That," Pietro stared. "That is not your choice!"

Natasha leaned back on her heels, her arms crossed over her chest as she appraised Wanda and Pietro in a new light, and spoke before Steve could get himself further into the middle of the argument, "Is what Clint said accurate?  Did she," she unfolded her arms enough to point at Wanda, "have to bring you back from the dead?"

For a moment Pietro looked mutinous. "You did not know that?"

She shook her head once, "I knew you had taken a hit.  I knew you went down.  The next I can recall hearing you were healing. Steve?  Stark?"

"I remember thinking you shouldn't have survived the bullets you were hit by," Steve said after a moment. "Because I do remember your wounds."

"You were dead," Clint said, and finally the anger leached out of his voice to be replaced with something else. "You were _dead_ there was no pulse, and Steve carried you to the life boat and you were dead. And then you weren't and I was watching there was just a lot of red and you weren't dead anymore. But you—you can't keep acting like such a fucking idiot!"

"Were you worried?" Pietro asked, meant to be teasing but it came out quiet.

"You idiot!" Clint yelled.

"Enough."  Steve's command voice cut through.  "Clint's right.  You can't depend on being brought back, on being untouchable.  The battle with Ultron and your sparring with Thor should be enough to prove the second part false."

Pietro opened his mouth like he was about to say something else and snapped it shut again, nodding.

Steve nodded once at that, glancing at Wanda and Clint as well as Pietro, "We good here?"

Wanda shifted a little closer to her brother and nodded ever so slightly. Clint looked away, jaw set and still furious. Watching the three of them for a moment, the way Wanda curled her hand around Pietro's arm while she focused on Clint, Steve rocked back on his heels, "I'm going to go get cleaned up."

"Just don't use all the hot water, Rogers," Natasha said, her gaze never leaving Clint.

"Well, if that’s such a concern, why don’t you just shower with him, Romanov?" Tony said, walking after Steve.

Natasha snorted, watching them go and calling after them, "Not my type.  You could though." Ignoring the choked sound from the hall, she shifted her stance just enough to let Clint know she was going, brushing his arm as she walked past him and toward the common floor's kitchen—far enough to give a semblance of privacy but near enough to come if needed.

For a moment Clint stared at the twins, as everyone else had scattered. "You know what," he said after a beat. "I'm still too angry." He turned, heading toward the kitchen instead of the showers.

When he entered the kitchen, Natasha set a cup of coffee down in front of him and boosted herself up on the counter, listening to see if either of the twins had followed him.  Once she decided they hadn't, she spoke, "He scared you today."

"They are stupid kids," he said, staring at the cup as if figuring out why it wasn't a whole pot and how to use it. "They are stupid _idiot_ kids and he almost died _again_."

"They are," she agreed quietly. "They don't have the training not to take stupid reckless risks over and over again."

"There isn't training in that Nat!" Clint protested. "But he _died_."

"And you three are the only ones who actually remember that happening, Clint," Natasha said, her voice steady, but her hands were tight against the edge of the counter on either side of her thighs.

"Steve talked himself out of remembering it," Clint said. "She was _freaked_ , had no idea she could even do something like that. And he didn't want to talk about the whole dying and coming back thing, it seemed easier to shrug it off and say he just hadn't died to begin with."

"That's a few steps beyond anything we knew she could do before."

"Yeah," Clint said, rolling his neck. "Quite a few steps. I think she could change the whole world if she ever figured out how."

Natasha's lips tightened at that and she nodded, "Let's hope it never gets there."

"Yeah, no kidding," Clint said, finally lifting the coffee mug. "My hands were shaking, I was so mad," he said, and the cup was still a little unsteady.

"You care a lot about them," Natasha said, sliding along the counter until she could pour herself a cup of coffee.

"When the fuck did that happen?" he asked under his breath.

"When you let them stay with you, at the latest," she replied, sipping at the bitter drink.

"We watched Star Wars the other night," Clint said. "I ordered pizza and we watched Star Wars."

Natasha curled her fingers around her mug, letting the heat seep through the porcelain into her skin, "Is it a bad thing?"

"Bad is," he waved a hand. "Not bad, just domestic. Who am I fooling here?"

Her lips quirked upward briefly, "Maybe yourself.  Maybe them.  He was surprised you were worried."

"Nat, I have never not fucked something like this up," Clint said.

"You don't know exactly what this is, Clint," Natasha reminded.  "Maybe all they want is Star Wars with you on the couch and ordered-in pizza they can share with that dog of yours."

"And you think that makes that any less terrifying?"

"I think it means you haven't fucked all things like it up," Natasha answered, shrugging ever so slightly.

"It's a matter of time," Clint said.

"You are not actually that bad at friendships," Natasha pointed out.

"You are an outlier and should not have been counted," Clint shot back.

She rolled her eyes, "Right, sure, of course."

"Come on, Nat," he said. "I can't even think straight around them—him—right now. I wasn't just mad, I—"

"You were scared," Natasha said, quietly.

"I keep wanting to protest they're just kids," Clint said. "But I know better. I know so much better. They've never just been kids, they won't ever just be kids. But it's so fucking unfair and yeah, I got scared."

"None of us have been kids," Natasha murmured.  "He survived, Clint.  I know it scared you, I know he hasn't before. But he did.  And what you said shook both of them up."

Clint stared at the table. "Do you think Thor got a childhood?"

"Thor's a prince.  I think he got as much of one as any royalty can," Natasha said after a moment.

"That's a damn depressing thought," he sighed.

"Yeah.  You heading back tonight, or you want to stick around and watch something?  I can even give up my Russian film for tonight."

"Naw, it's okay," he said, pushing himself back to his feet. "I need to go and just... be alone for a while."

"Alright." She nodded very slightly, watching him from behind her mostly empty coffee mug, "You know how to reach me if you change your mind."

A-A-A

Clint was doing sit ups, Pietro playing around with his TV before he got bored of that, sitting cross-legged next to Clint.

"That's not creepy at all," Clint said under his breath.

Pietro watched him for another moment. "What did you mean, before, about the mind control?" he asked and Clint froze.

Wanda looked up from the book she was reading, draped across the couch.  Her attention focused in on Clint and the way he'd stopped moving, "You said it had happened before."

Clint had stopped mid sit up, his stomach tight as he hovered for another moment before sitting all the way up. "This is not Clint Barton's fuck ups, the greatest hits," he said, because the twins had both been acting quiet and more careful since he yelled at them, in training and in the few engagements the Avengers had had. They also had been, as best he could tell, hovering even more in his apartment.

"Whatever it was, would not be your fault," Wanda said after a moment.

Clint took a deep breath, holding it deep in his lungs before letting it back out as he resumed the sit up. "Doesn't matter whose fault it was, it happened."

"When?" She asked, gaze focused steadily on Clint.

"Does that really matter?" Clint asked.

She paused and then shook her head slightly, "You are not going to tell us anything about it at all, are you?"

"Do you remember that glowing stick that created Ultron and is now in Vision's head?" Clint asked.

Wanda nodded slightly, "Strucker had it."  She glanced toward Pietro, "Used it."

"Yes, I know he had it, we were looking for it for ages. Anyway. _That_."

Paling slightly and remembering the doctor who Ultron had made create Vision's form, Wanda slid off of the couch to move to Clint and Pietro's sides, "Oh."

"Battle of New York," Clint added. "You know, aliens and shit." He wasn't looking over at either of them.

The twins shared a glance before Wanda spoke again, "It is not something overcome easily."

"Yeah, well, got hit really hard in the head," Clint said. "Snapped me out of it—eventually."

"Why would you call it one of your fuck ups?" Wanda asked after a moment, "You did not want it, you did not choose it."

"Still hurt people," Clint said shortly. "Still allowed people to get hurt."

Wanda held herself very still at those words, unable to find anything to say to that that wouldn't be pushed aside again. Clint finally looked over at her. "It's okay, princess, I've dealt with it a long time. I'm okay."

"You do not seem entirely okay," Pietro muttered.

Wanda drew her knees up, resting her crossed arms on them, and nodded very slightly, "Like Pietro said."

Clint took an obvious breath, shaking his head slightly. "I just don't like people near my mind," he grit out, every line in his body tense. "I can't be the cause of things like that again, of hurting people I care about while I can't stop myself."

"I am glad—" Wanda paused, frowning as she tried to find the words for what she wanted to say before she finally shook her head and just said it, "I am glad you did not let me take your mind."

"Well it means it's easier to have you in my apartment that way," Clint said. "You really did a number on everyone. It's... impressive, sortta."

"It makes it harder," she murmured.  "I do not like being 'impressive.'"

Clint stared at her. "Shit," he said. "I am so bad at this."

That earned a twitch of her lips and she shook her head, "No, you are not.  This is not about me.  We were speaking of you."

"It's okay if the two got a little conflated," he said, draping his elbows over his knees, side eying Pietro who was giving him an odd look. "What?"

"Nothing," Pietro said, too quickly and looked back at his sister.

"Anyway," Clint said. "So we all have issues. Comes with the territory or something."

Wanda caught Pietro's look and shook her head almost imperceptibly, "Or something.  What would life be without issues?"

"I don't know," Clint sighed. "Not this."

Pietro shifted again. "Are you going to explain to us the episode four thing yet?"

"Oh god," Clint groaned, burying his head in his knees.

A-A-A

"I thought you would have a better poker face," Clint told Tony from across the table as Tony scowled at him.

Pietro kept turning his cards over and around as if that would have them make any more sense, while Thor and Vision conferred in the corner. Clint was starting to suspect they were going to win on actual strategy.

Natasha snorted slightly, rearranging the cards in her hand into a better order for what she was trying for, "You would think so, but then you're not taking into account the looks he tosses around."

Steve frowned at his cards and tossed them face-down into the middle of the table, "I fold.  What are you talking about, Nat?"

"Oh, would those be the ones he gives Steve's broad-shouldered back?" Clint asked.

"Shove it, Barton."

"Well they're no worse than the ones that Steve gives Tony when he thinks he's not looking," Natasha said.

Color rose to Steve's cheeks, "Nat..."

"It is pathetic," Pietro said, still scowling at his cards. "The staring, I mean, not the attraction."

Tony choked on air. "Dude," he managed.

Wanda tossed her cards to join Steve's and rose to lean over the back of her brother's chair.  Natasha shook her head pointing at Pietro, "You do not have ground to stand on, speedster."

"What?" his eyes darted up and for a moment he looked alarmed.

Natasha looked back placidly for a moment before dropping her gaze to her cards and speaking to Steve, "So, when are you going to actually do something about this, Steve? I swear I thought Clint was bad and then I moved into this Tower."

"No idea what you're talking about," Steve answered, almost sounding strangled.

"What?" Clint looked at her sideways and Pietro hurriedly buried himself behind his cards.

Natasha made a sound that was almost exasperation, "They're almost as bad as you are when it comes to emotional awareness."

"Clint is not so bad as that," Wanda protested, finally looking up from Pietro's hand of cards.

"You've never spoken to Bobbi Morse, then," Natasha said and then fell very still as she realized the words that had just come out of her mouth—having for once in her life spoken before she thought.

Clint stared at her, mouth dropped for a second too long. "That was low," he said, softly.

She actually winced as she nodded, but didn't say anything.  Wanda looked between them for a moment, "Who is Bobbi Morse?"

"That, uh," Clint sighed.

"I think I've heard that name," Tony frowned.

"Oh god," Clint groaned, putting his cards face down on the table to cover his face. "Why have _you_ heard that name."

"I read your file?" Tony said. "Wasn't she—ooooh. Oh. Okay."

"Who?" Wanda said, actually directly addressing Tony for once.

Steve looked at Natasha questioningly and she shook her head, having already stuck her foot too far into her mouth.

"It's okay, whatever," Clint said. "She's my ex-wife."

Pietro dropped his cards. "You have a wife?"

"Had. Thus the ‘ex’ part."

Wanda stilled, eyes wide, her hand tightening on Pietro's shoulder without her being fully conscious of it, "What happened?"

"What didn't happen might be the better question," Clint said.

"I am most sorry to hear this did not work for you," Thor said from his corner and Clint stared at him wide eyed.

"Why did it not—" Wanda broke off her question.

Natasha answered before Clint could, "Because _neither_ of them were very good at the emotional side and the communication bit."

"She's the one who gave me the divorce papers on Valentine's Day!" Clint protested.

"Which you had forgotten was Valentine's Day until then," Natasha said.

Steve cut in, staring at Clint, "She gave you the papers on Valentine's Day?"

"Well having your wife say, congratulations you're officially divorced, happy Valentine’s Day sortta drives the holiday home for you," Clint said. "Whatever. It was a bad year, all around."

"That's a hell of a way to remember Valentine's Day," Steve said, blinking twice.

"I tried to go back to bed for the rest of the day," Clint said. "It didn't work."

"You were married?" Pietro frowned, still caught up on that fact.

"I admit it was a surprise, but this is a lot of shock over it," Natasha said, watching the twins carefully.

"We just thought—" Wanda broke off and shook her head firmly, "It does not matter."

"You seem young to already have an ex-wife," Pietro said, ducking his head again.

"Oh, do not go there," Clint groaned.

"When was it?" Wanda asked after another brief moment.

"Couple years," Clint said. "I haven't seen her since then." Pietro gave him a look. "She went deep undercover okay! It's not like we've been avoiding each other, except to the point where she may have gone undercover in the first place to... but we're not... actively bitter or avoiding each other or anything."

"Except for the deep undercover thing," Steve said, shifting slightly when Natasha kicked him under the table.

"Yeah, well, SHIELD agents greater good, blah blah, she went undercover in Hydra okay?"

Steve stilled at that, nodding slightly and fiddling with the stacks of potato chips in front of him that they had decided to use rather than actual poker chips.

"Anyway," Clint said.

"Still caught up on the ex-wife thing, honestly," Tony said.

"There's not much to be hung up on," Natasha said, making her final bet for the hand.

"Except, what was she like? How did Clint get anyone to marry him?" Tony continued.

"Aw, fuck off Stark it's not like you're any better off here," Clint said.

"How does anyone get anyone else to marry them?" Natasha asked, not looking up from her cards.

"They ask?" Steve offered.

"That's so very boring of you, Rogers," Natasha drawled.

"I thought asking was the big part too," Clint said.

"Okay, but did you ask her or did she ask you?" Tony asked, throwing more chips on his pile in the middle.

"Does it matter?" Steve asked, more than glad that he'd already folded.

"We'll no, but I'm curious," Tony said, giving him a long look.

"I'm not traditional if that's what you're getting at sideways," Clint said. "We didn't even do the engagement ring thing and no, we didn't elope either. Technically. Okay sortta. "

"Ah you've learned how nosy I am," Tony laughed, finally not looking at Steve.

"Everyone knows how nosy you are, Tony," Natasha said, laying her cards out after the last round of betting finished.  Blinking twice when the pot went to Thor and Vision.

Wanda stayed where she was leaning against Pietro's chair as the next hand was dealt, rather than join in, "So she asked you and you got married?"

"It's slightly more complicated than that, but sure."

"So you are easy?" Pietro asked, starring at his cards.

"What is it with you and the weirdness and judgement?" Clint asked.

"What?" Pietro looked up startled. "I... I am not judging you."

Clint frowned at him before looking back at Natasha. "Alright, well since the twins are on a team and Thor and Vision seem to be on a team, I vote we team up."

"Wait, who's on my team then?" Tony protested.

"Steve," Natasha said simply, sliding closer to Clint.

Color dusted Steve's cheekbones as he protested, "You just said he didn't have a poker face.  How is this fair?"

"Because yours is worse," Natasha replied, sweetly.

"You're the one that's been folding," Tony protested to Steve. "How is this fair to _me_?"

"Aren't you two, like, the leaders of the team or some bullshit?" Clint asked. "Haven't you been reading the headlines? Like, Steve's the official leader but you're the brains and the money and all that?" He looked sideways at Natasha. "Actually, that would make a great harlequin romance."

Natasha's smile took on a wicked edge, "We'd make millions if we could find a ghost writer for it."

"No," Steve said.  "Don't even think about it, Natasha."

"Too late."

"Who says we need a ghost writer?" Clint asked. "I bet we could get a TV show too—maybe on Starz or something, not HBO."

Natasha actually clapped her hands together once, which just earned her a deeply unimpressed look from Steve, "Yes, that's brilliant.  Starz certainly.  And a book."

"Okay, I'm officially separating the two of you," Steve said, color running high in his cheeks even as a smile tugged at his lips.

"Why Starz?" Tony asked, furiously look at his cards.

"Because it might appeal to the Outlander crowd you know—sex and time travel is in there," Clint said cheerfully.

"You watch Outlander?" Tony asked, actually looking up as Thor and Vision worked on their next strategy.

"Pietro likes it," Clint said in a sing-song voice and Pietro made a sound of protest.

"Wanda is the one who found it!"

"And you're the one who turns it on every week," Clint shot back.

"I like it as background noise when I read," Wanda admitted.

"Not exactly what I would think of for background noise," Steve said, eyebrows rising.

Wanda shrugged as though it made sense, "Besides, Pietro does like it."

"You watch Outlander?" Tony asked, finally looking at Steve for the first time in the last several minutes.

"I do not—" Pietro tried to protest again before sighing and shrugging. "I like the costumes."

Steve shrugged, "It looked interesting.  So I watched it and liked it enough to keep watching."

"I could see you being interested in the time travel aspect," Clint said.

"Sort of.  I like the setting and just..." Steve shrugged again, leaning over to look at the cards Tony held.

Tony tensed for a moment before he held the cards out, so Steve could see them without having to lean quite so close. Steve's brows twitched together as he considered the cards, but not enough to tell if they were good or bad.

"To be fair you never complain when it is on," Pietro said, looking at Clint instead of Steve or Tony's bad poker faces.

"Is that because he likes it or isn't paying attention to it being on, though," Natasha asked, glancing toward the twins.

"I like the music," Clint said, tilting the cards he had reordered toward Natasha.

"It's good music," Natasha agreed.  "I just can't watch the show."

"Boo," Clint said.

Natasha's lips quirked upward and she shook her head at him, glancing at the twins, "So I hear you sat through Star Wars with him."

"He refuses to talk about the episode four thing," Pietro said.

"There are only three movies," Clint said instantly.

"And they were never remastered," Natasha said, her tone idle.

"No, actually, they did watch the remastered ones,” Clint sighed. “It was the only option.”

"He complained about the music a lot," Pietro said.

That actually earned a laugh from Natasha, "Yes, he does that.  He takes those versions as a personal insult sometimes."

"Will you explain the episode four thing?" Wanda asked, looking to Natasha, who shook her head.

"No, I'm pretty certain you both can figure out a search engine on your own."

"I liked the prequels," Thor declared suddenly from down the table. "The politics, it was interesting."

"Get out," Clint said, staring at him. "When did you—"

"I have been living with Jane and by extension, Darcy," Thor said. "They were flawed, but interesting."

"Thank you," Natasha said.  "Someone I can talk to about those ones with.  They had a lot of potential, they just, missed several marks."

"Padme and Anakin make me very sad," Thor said quietly and Clint just stared at him.

"Okay," he sighed, giving up the fight before he even started it. "Fine."

Tony looked at Steve, lost in the talk of movies and shows he rarely if ever paid actual attention to. "Hey, has Falcon or whatever gotten over himself and agreed to hang out with us yet?"

"Sam's got his own things he does, Tony.  And he's already running down local leads about Bucky in his spare time," Steve said.  He shrugged, "He said to call if we really needed him, but he's not actually interested in joining the team.  Not right now."

"We not good enough?" Tony asked, tone indicating it was not quite the question he meant to be asking. "Not the coolest kids on the block?"

The left corner of Steve's lips tugged up into a crooked smile, "Well, he didn't say that in so many words."

"Hey," Tony protested.

"Don't worry, I think your club is cool," Clint said.

"A glowing recommendation," Natasha said.

"Hey, are you questioning my taste?" Clint scowled at her.

"You do not like the prequels," Thor said.

"Oi."

"I have seen your apartment, Barton," Natasha said.  "I have also known you for years."

"I like the apartment," Wanda cut in, frowning very slightly.

"Thank you," Clint said. "I happen to like it too. And I’ll have you know I have great taste in books."

"You read?" Tony asked as if in surprise.

"Ha, ha, Stark."

"It is taking time, but I am making progress reading through his books," Wanda said.

Natasha's eyebrows rose very slightly, "Find any of the juicy ones yet?"

"Nat," Clint said, warningly.

She blinked at him, feigning innocence, "What?"

"I am not sure what you mean," Wanda said, carefully, looking between the two of them.

"That means they aren't on the normal shelf," Clint said.

"So you do have them?" Wanda asked, not actually looking away from the cards Pietro held.

"I mean," Clint cleared his throat. "They wouldn't be—"

"Stacked in the dresser, nightstand thing you have next to your bed?" Pietro asked and Clint stared at him. "What? I saw there were books in there, I did not read them. Or even really look at them. I was just snooping."

"You are apparently awful at snooping," Clint said.

Wanda rested her chin on Pietro's shoulder, "Well, now you have made it easy for me, brother." He grinned at her over his shoulder before turning back to the cards.

“Aw, books,” Clint said under his breath.

A-A-A

"How the hell is it that all of these nutjobs end up in New York?" Steve called over the coms, bringing his shield up to block an attack from yet another of the robots that were flooding the street.

"I don't know, but I'm sick of robots myself," Clint said, up on a skyscraper.

"Who called in the witches wicked monkeys anyway?" Tony asked. "I mean, some inventor watched way too much Wizard of Oz as a kid."

"Did you get that reference?" Sam asked, having been called in for his wings.

Steve tossed the shield, catching it after it ricocheted off three separate mechanical creations, dry amusement in his voice, "Yeah, I got that reference."

"That is the one with the tornado and the high pitched singing, isn't it?" Wanda asked, firing a hex bolt and ducking for cover.

"Oh my god," Clint groaned.

"Are your coms always this busy?" Rhodey asked, ducking down around Tony in midair, mixing their blasts together.

"Sadly," Natasha replied, shorting out a robot with her widow's bite.  "Though Steve's chattier than usual."

"He's showing off," Tony said.

"Which is such a foreign concept for you," Rhodey said.

"Or flirting," Natasha contributed.

"Romanov," Steve said warningly.

"Also such a foreign concept to Tony," Rhodey added.

"Rhodey," Tony said, tackling one of the monkey-shaped robots midair. "I swear to god."

Wanda narrowly avoided one of the robots, taking it out and then firing a bolt at one climbing toward Clint's perch, "Who would the Captain be flirting with, Natasha?"

"Oh I can think of a couple of people, but not the person he wants to," Nat's voice came through clearly, as she arced around one of the robots, avoiding it's blast and using her momentum to bring it's arm around to fire through another group of the menaces.

"That seems like a waste of time," Pietro said, running his way through a swarm of the robots.

"You would think so.  But it seems to be a universal habit on this team," Natasha said.

"I do not," Pietro said as a robot jumped up behind Clint, metal claws going for both sides of his face. Clint kicked out quickly, getting enough room to stab the robot with an arrow through the eye, kicking the remains off the ledge and directly into another robot. He frowned a moment, bending down and tapping his ear.

"Clint, are you alright?" Tony asked, and Pietro stopped, turning back to look.

"Nat," Clint said. "Code—fuck I don't remember the code anymore."

Natasha swore violently in Russian, taking out another robot and sending two sharp flashes from a signal she carried on her shoulder that she had refused to have removed no matter what upgrades Tony gave her.  "Code what the fuck. Let's get this cleaned up, now."

Wanda's attention snapped up to where Clint was, and Steve slammed his shield down on a robot that was trying to take advantage of her distraction.  He snapped into the coms, "Natasha, Clint, report.  What just happened?"

"If anyone could warn me that someone's coming up behind me, that would be great," Clint said.

"Is it one or both, Clint?" Natasha asked, voice pitched higher then usual.

"I think I just heard Nat's voice ask me a question," Clint said. "Which should answer the question I'm sure she just asked."

"Fuck," she swore.  "Alright, I'm heading up.  Sam, I need a lift.  Now."

"Coming," Sam said instantly veering off, shaking a few robots off as he went to pick up Natasha.

"What just happened?" Pietro yelled at the coms.

Natasha caught Sam's hand and he swept her up toward the correct roof, "Clint's lost his hearing aids."

"His what?" Pietro came to such a stop he collided with a few robots who had no idea he was going to appear there.

"His hearing aids?" Wanda asked, sending a shot through three of the robots around her brother.

"You both caught exactly what I said," Natasha snapped as she dropped onto the roof behind Clint, covering his back as Sam headed back into the battle.

"But," Pietro started before he decided running again was a better plan. Wanda darted a glance up to where Clint was perched and turned her attention back to the robots in front of her, keeping part of her attention on where her brother was as well.

"You guys usually end up finding stuff like that out in the middle of battle?" Rhodey asked.

"Aw, honey bear, that level of dysfunction you should be used to," Tony said, sweeping low and scattering several of the monkey bots out of the telephone wires.

Steve raised his shield to block debris and then sent it flying to take out two of the bots that were swooping down on him, "Though admittedly that's a new level of finding things out in the middle of battle."

"No, Tony's right, that seems to be the only time he's willing to reveal anything," Rhodey said.

"That was... three times?" Tony hesitated. "Or something."

"Is this a superhero thing then?" Sam asked.

"I think this is a Stark thing," Natasha said.

"Anything you want to reveal mid-battle today, Tony?" Steve asked.

Natasha spoke again, "If it's any consolation, Steve can't seem to remember he can't fly in the middle of battle."

"I think I'm good today," Tony said.

"What is Steve doing?" Sam asked in half alarm.

"What do you mean, what am I doing?" Steve asked, catching hold of one of the monkey bots and using it to get up about a story and a half in height so he could drop onto some of the others and take them down to street level with him.

"Sam, this is mild.  You know this.  He hurled himself off the Helicarrier, do you remember that?" Natasha asked.

"Shit, what?" Tony asked. "I thought that was Barton's thing, jumping off buildings."

"I guess it's good we have so much air support today," Sam sighed.

"Clint at least uses grappling arrows most of the time," Natasha said, and then paused.  "Well, except when he doesn't."

"Why do I get the feeling you're talking about me?" Clint asked under his breath as Tony weaved around Steve, blasting off his shield to take down several more of the bots.

"Okay, we're almost done. Anyone have any idea who the fuck invented these fuckers?"

"There should be enough scraps left after this for us to figure that out, or at least narrow a field of where to look," Steve said, beheading one of the bots with his shield.

"I was hoping for a more obvious answer," Tony admitted.

"Not you?" Rhodey offered.

"You were barely even here for that," Tony muttered.

"We're trying not to talk about that," Steve said.  "And most of the actual swarm was HYDRA I think."

"Yes, but the original source was Stark," Wanda said, taking out a few more violently.

"I have learned from my mistakes?" Tony offered after a beat. "Technically the Vision was Thor's baby."

"I am gonna pretend I didn't hear that," Rhodey decided, taking the head off the last monkey bot.

"Have—"

Before Wanda could finish her question, Natasha cut her off, "If you all are done down there, Clint and I could use a lift to ground level."

Tony landed in front of Clint, who did not obviously startle back. "Clint! Seriously!"

"Uh," Clint blinked. "Are you talking to me right now? Honestly? With the faceplate down?"

Tony instantly flipped it up. "Does this help?" he asked, facing Clint face on.

"Actually, yes."

"Clint! I thought I meant more to you! Honestly, hearing aids? I am personally insulted you didn't bring them to me! I could make them so much better!"

"I'm not sure I want sentient hearing aids is all," Clint said. "I think they're technically made with Stark tech anyway?"

"Yes, but not _personally_ by me."

Natasha rolled her eyes, "Have this discussion on the ground, boys.  Sam, you ready to catch me, I promise I'm lighter than Steve."

"I am not catching you in midair," Sam said. "I'm coming, I'm coming."

Before Clint could say anything else, Pietro was at his side, having run up the stairs. He grabbed Clint's chin and yanked his head around. "What the fuck," Clint started.

"Do you have another set?" Pietro demanded, letting go once Clint was facing him.

"Yes, of course, back at the apartment, I mean, I have extra batteries but that was not the problem here—"

"Then we will go back to the apartment," Pietro said, and picked Clint up, ignoring his yelp before running back down the stairs.

Tony blinked after them. "Was that a kidnapping or...?"

Sam landed next to Natasha. "Do you still want that ride?"

Natasha laughed, "Yeah, I do.  It's about time."

"Well you could go down with Tony now," Sam said.

She looked at Tony, and then back to Sam, "You act like you haven't missed me at all."

"You're right," he said, plucking her up dramatically. "I understand now why you want me in on this superhero boy band."

"Excuse me?" Tony said from the side.

Natasha laughed, calling toward Tony as they took off, "Swear to whatever you think is holy that I didn't tell him that one."

"I don't believe you," Tony yelled back, even though the coms were still on.

"I suppose if you did join up I wouldn't have an excuse to go down to DC to bother you," Natasha said to Sam, stepping away from him as soon as they touched down.

"Something you want to share, Nat?" Steve's voice came over the still-open coms.

"What, about DC?" Rhodey asked, landing next to Tony and shaking his arms out.

"I like DC," Natasha said, stretching out a couple of kinks.

"No, I think he was going more after the code fuck thing," Tony said.

"No, I did mean the DC bit," Steve said.  "But the code fuck thing is worth a few questions."

"Clint's lost his hearing aids, or they've cut out, before in tense situations.  We used to have a code for it, but we haven't used it for a while so neither of us actually remember what it is," Natasha explained.

"Why did no one know about him having hearing aids to begin with?" Tony asked.

"Because it hadn't come up," Natasha answered.

Wanda faced her, "That _should have_ come up.  We should have known."  She opened her mouth to say something else and then snapped it shut and shook her head, "I am going back to the apartment."

"Are you planning to walk all the way to Bed-Stuy?"  Steve asked skeptically.

"I dare anyone to try anything with me right now," Wanda said in reply.

"We still need to do clean up," Rhodey said.

Wanda fell very still, looking toward Steve.  Cap slung his shield over his shoulders and nodded, "Rhodey's right.  We need to do clean up, and then you can go."

"And figure out who created these fuckers," Tony added and paused. "Though that part can wait until we get the team all together again, yeah?"

Steve nodded again, "Yeah that part can wait."

"Alright then," Tony said, shifting his fists as if he was cracking his metal knuckles. "Let's clean up."

A-A-A

"Jesus fuck," Clint said, when Pietro dropped him in the middle of his apartment. "That was uncalled for!"

"Where are they?" Pietro asked, zooming agitatedly around the apartment.

Clint watched him for a moment before shaking his head, climbing up into the loft and fishing through his bedside dresser before coming up with the larger, more obvious, and very purple hearing aids. "I really will have to take Stark up on making me better ones," he said to himself. "He'll probably try and make them more battle proof too."

He startled when Pietro appeared right in front of him, one of the hearing aids fully in and the other one still in process.

"Why did you not tell us?" Pietro demanded.

"Because I don't like to," Clint said, fiddling with the casing for a moment before sliding the second one home. "It's not like it's usually relevant."

Pietro looked furious. "It is relevant," he protested. "We could have, I could have—"

"I think my weaknesses are obvious enough," Clint snapped and Pietro froze, because he had almost killed Clint when they first met. He sat down hard on his heels, staring at Clint.

"It is not—"

"Yes it is," Clint said, not meeting his eyes. "And I have it under control, okay? Most of the time anyway, that stupid monkey thing just got in a really good hit and—"

"Your luck is awful," Pietro said and suddenly Clint stood up.

"What is it with you anyway?" he demanded. "I'm sick to death of you pulling my pigtails, or whatever the fuck you're doing."

"I am not," Pietro blinked. "Pigtails? I am not pulling your pigtails."

"Right," Clint stormed back down toward the kitchen, intent on coffee. "We should probably get back anyway, there's gotta be—"

"Cleanup," Pietro said, stepping between him and the counter. "They will be fine."

Clint scowled at him. "Okay, fine, if you're going to stand between me and coffee and insist they're going to be fine, you are going to explain yourself."

"There," Pietro frowned, shaking his head. "I do not even understand what pulling pigtails is but I am pretty sure that is not what I am doing."

Clint arched one brow. "So... you are doing...?"

"You still should have told us about the hearing aids," Pietro said.

"That's not—" Clint started to yell, before Pietro moved too fast for him to see and suddenly there was a mouth covering his. Clint froze, arms spread out and Pietro's hands cupped his cheeks, holding him.

The kiss only lasted a few seconds before Pietro pulled back, but Clint was breathing heavy, like he had been running or like they really had gotten into a yelling match. "You were pulling my pigtails," he said and Pietro frowned. "Oh my god."

"You are dense," Pietro said, but he was watching him warily so Clint reeled him back in to kiss him again. Pietro felt like he was vibrating with the effort of standing still as Clint carefully kissed him, hands on his sides. "Wait," Pietro said when Clint pulled back again. "Wanda likes you too."

"What?" Clint stared and Pietro looked slightly to the side, right over his shoulder.

"Well," Pietro said. "You like both girls and boys, right?"

"Please change that to men and women, I'm already feeling weird about the age thing," Clint said, still staring at Pietro's cheekbone in shock.

"Alright, men and women," Pietro said. "But you do, right?"

"Yeah?" Clint said. "But that's different from—at the same time?"

Pietro tensed and it felt like he was shaking harder, desperate to run. "Are you opposed?"

"Fuck, give me a minute to adjust to the idea," Clint said. "It's sortta been a long day and I'd sortta need to hear that from her mouth anyway."

"Okay," Pietro nodded, finally shifting his gaze back to Clint's face again. "Want to make out on the couch until she gets back."

"Uh," Clint managed before Pietro had shifted them across the room, dropping Clint down on his couch and climbing on his thighs to lean down and kiss him again.

Wanda all but stumbled through the door more than an hour later, still covered in dust from the rubble and possibly oil from the destroyed bots.  She had passed the point of caring, but she came to a complete stop when she saw her brother and Clint on the couch and she leaned back against the door. Lucky bounded over and she reached down to scratch behind his ears, "So you told him then?"

Pietro sat back, having already started to turn that way when the door opened. "Yes. About you too of course."

"I am mad at both of you," Clint muttered, not looking very mad at all from where he was flat on his back on the couch, Pietro still on top of him.

"You are mad at _us_?" Wanda asked, pushing off from the door and crossing to the couch to stare down at the two of them, "You should have told us."

"Mad at you for other reasons," Clint said, turning his head. "I already had this conversation once today, will have to have it again with the team probably, and really don't feel up to it right now. Sorry."

She pursed her lips, but nodded once, "Why are you mad at us?"

"He is huffy he did not figure it out," Pietro said. "I think."

Clint covered his face with one hand. "Yeah, that's mostly it."

"We were being obvious," Pietro said.

"Most people don't assume siblings are hitting on them at the same time," Clint protested. "It sortta canceled itself out."

"Are you upset that it is both of us?" Wanda asked, kneeling next to the couch and resting her forearms on the cushion by Clint's head.

Clint turned his head to look at her, swallowing hard. "No? It's just unexpected is all."

"So you do not mind?" She confirmed once more.

"I don't," Clint cleared his throat. "Think so?"

"In this situation," Pietro said. "It really is both of us, one with the other. We will not do that to each other."

Wanda nodded her agreement with Pietro, "We both care too much about you for it to be another way."

"That's a lot more pressure," Clint said, still meeting her eyes.

"Pressure?" Wanda asked quietly, her gaze steady.

"On me, to not fuck it up," Clint said.

"No," Wanda murmured.  "It's on all three of us to make it work.  To...not fuck it up."

"I have a longer track record," Clint said. "As far as I know, anyway."

"So do not fuck it up," Pietro shrugged, unconcerned and still sitting on him.

Wanda paused for a moment before leaning in and kissing Clint gently, one hand resting against his cheek, "We will make it work."

Clint reached out, one hand resting on the back of her neck and the other on Pietro's thigh. Pietro made a quiet sound at the back of his throat, shifting slightly. Kissing Clint again, Wanda finally drew back with a soft laugh as Lucky nosed his way onto her lap.

"Lucky," Clint groaned and Pietro laughed with his sister.

Wanda ruffled Lucky's ears with a bright smile, "Are we not giving you enough attention right now?"  She let her gaze move back to Clint again and her smile softened.

"Yeah, he can wait," Clint said, pushing up and upending Pietro with a yelp. "Come on," and he pulled Wanda up and into another kiss, one arm wrapping around her waist.

Wanda leaned into the kiss, one hand curled around the back of Clint's neck while the other reached out unerringly and caught Pietro's wrist. Clint's free hand wrapped around Pietro's waist, dragging him closer. Wanda drew back from the kiss to catch her breath, dropping her head to rest against Clint's shoulder.

"Aw, life," Clint said under his breath. He tilted his head back when Pietro made a needy sound, pressing their mouths together. "This is going to get messy," he said in the space between the three of them

"Messy?" Wanda asked, her breath ghosting against his throat.

"Uh-huh," Clint said mostly into Pietro's mouth.

"Is that bad?" Pietro asked.

"I'm pretty sure there's some rule somewhere about a landlord sleeping with his tenants," Clint said.

“Then it is a silly rule," Pietro laughed, twining his fingers with Wanda as he kissed Clint again. Clint let him without argument, arm still around Wanda’s waist.


End file.
